


good to you.

by outpastthemoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mattresses, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outpastthemoat/pseuds/outpastthemoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck wakes up in the hole in the middle of the mattress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	good to you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MajorEnglishEsquire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/gifts).



> For majorenglishesquire.

Chuck dreams that he is standing over an abyss, he dreams of a wind rushing up and through his hair. He dreams of leaning forward, of that helpless feeling of uncertainty as he balances on the edge.   Chuck closes his eyes and the ground crumples beneath his feet and he is falling, falling; he opens his mouth to scream but his chest is frozen still and all the air in his lungs is being sucked out into the void.

Chuck wakes up in the hole in the middle of the mattress.

Sometimes that happens. Chuck will toss and turn in his sleep, despite Sam's calm, comforting presence, and gradually Chuck will slide further down and further down until he's smack in the middle of the mattress, in the pit Sam has created right where the springs are broken.

This morning Chuck is in the hole.   He is suffocating silently underneath Sam's outstretched arm.  He snatches at Sam desperately, help me, help me, and Sam responds by rolling over on his side.  Bringing them face to face.

Chuck grasps Sam's beautiful, kind face with both hands.  "Sam," he says. "Sam. I love you. But.

WE NEED A NEW MATTRESS."

Sam blinks at him in confusion.  "A new mattress?" Sam asks cautiously. "Why?"

"Because," Chuck tells him, "your glorious body - your chiseled abs, your shapely rear, every amazingly beautiful part of you - is BREAKING OUR BED."

Sam frowns, but Chuck knows it to be true. Sam has been sleeping with his head in one corner and his feet in the opposite corner since he started filling out Chuck's mattress, the way Sam must sleep on every motel double, on the musty old bed frame back in the bunker, and Chuck's mattress has, in the way any prophet's mattresses must succumb to fate, started to sag right in the middle, where Sam's body crosses between the springs.

Sam is too much for this world.

He is too much for most mattresses.

\--

Sam has never slept on a mattress that's long enough for him. not even at sanford, not even the dorm's extra-long twin had been long enough for Sam to stretch out comfortably. Sam has slept curled up, his knees tucked up by his chest, he has sleep sideways, he has slept with those long, strong legs dangling over the edge. Sam has learned to adapt.

This time, though. no adaptations. No It's only for a night, i'll survives, no The world ends tomorrow and it must be my fault, so who cares if i wake up with a crick in my neck and an ache burning through my spines.

Sam looks at his choices. Sleep number beds, temperpedics, water beds.

"Which would you rather get?" he asks Chuck. "Would you rather go ahead and get a firm mattress? or something softer? I mean. If you thought you might rather have a firm one we could go ahead and get one, you can always add a pillowtop to make a firmer mattress softer, but you can't exactly firm up a soft mattress--" He knows he's babbling. He knows. But this feels momentous. This is a experience Sam never thought he'd be able to have: The unimaginable, incredible domesticity of picking out a mattress with someone who loves you.

Sam knows that he is a lucky, lucky man because Chuck stops him with a finger on his lips and says, "I want the one that makes you happiest."

\--

They lounge on the bed and shop online on Sam's laptop.  Chuck tells him to get anything, any kind of mattress he wants, Sam is in his thirties and has saved the world and at the very least he deserves a mattress that's good to him, and Sam changes his search perimeters from queens to kings, looking shyly pleased and flattered.

"No, no, no," Chuck says. Sam looks at him, puzzled.  "We are young, we are in love, the world is our oyster and we are getting a CALIFORNIA KING."

Sam catches him around the waist and draws Chuck close and sinks his head on Chuck's chest. Like this is the most wonderful gift in the world and he is overcome. Which, I mean: It's just a mattress.

It's not just a mattress.

It's about Sam's comfort, which has never been anyone's number one priority for as long as Sam can remember, it's about Sam's right to chose, which Sam has had so few excuses to exercise, it's about being good to Sam and the knot he always gets just under his left shoulder and it's about picking the item of furniture that Sam will share with Chuck, here in their new life together, every night and every morning and maybe even late afternoons on Sundays, if Chuck is lucky.

Sam pulls him down on their bed - their bed, their bed - and Chuck is a lucky, lucky man.

 


End file.
